POLONIUS: Come child and with thy countenance and composure assemble
Tell me thy father paternal what doth vex thy soul and make thy hands all tremble

OPHELIA: Good my lord and father who hath raised me
My troubles are of Hamlet who hath recently chased me
Through castle halls both dark and bright
And chapel of most sacred light
Through dining room his voice’d boom
And then he’d fume about the doom
And more he’d loom in basement tomb
In stately room a glum he’d gloom
Or so I assume by his dour costume--

POLONIUS: Such affliction is but a fountain of the womb
An’ such things may be expected in nobles, pray resume--

OPHELIA: And then he’d see and look at me
So haughtily and frightfully
And thus he’d be so terribly
Unnecessarily uncivilly
And extraordinarily melancholy,
Snootily, sulkily ,snobbily and insolently ‘pon the balcony

POLUNIUS: Fie, ‘pon this madness to such degree
Thus, the king should hear of this you should agree
And shall by this hand shall know, that I do decree
And we shall work to save his wits thus I guarantee

OPHELIA: And so he’d do a thing or two
And thus I knew that as it grew
By what he drew a madness brew
And then he threw a fit he’d flew
Into a new rage hereto
The like he’d spew unequal to
If’d you’d review his overview
And break into so much ado and hull’ballo about a Who!